


reach out & touch

by loserbevs



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Multi, Platonic Soulmates, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, Romantic Soulmates, Self-Esteem Issues, Soulmates, Touch-Starved, mentions of abuse //
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-09 03:47:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16442402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loserbevs/pseuds/loserbevs
Summary: the losers are touch-starved soulmates.





	reach out & touch

ben hanscom believes he is unworthy of loving touch from anyone but his mother. no one will want to cup his chubby cheeks in their palms a kiss his plump lips. no one will want to hold his hands when they sweat. if he were to hug someone, he worries he’d break them in two. he wants to shrink himself down so he can fit in like a puzzle piece. he wants to slot his hands it someone’s like it belongs there. he wants to fit. he wants to belong.

beverly marsh has never known a touch without cruel intention. her father’s hands are calloused as they stroke her hair and bruise her wrists. her bruises, burns, scrapes, and welts are no sign of love. she is used to touch being a feared thing, bringing pain. something to shy away from. she never wants a boyfriend, a husband. because if this is love, she never wants to feel it again.

bill denbrough is perhaps the least touch-starved, but when his brother dies, hugs and hair-ruffling feel like eons away. his parents can barely look at him without crying, let alone hold him to their chests and let him know that everything will be okay. he shrinks, he isolates. he longs for georgie’s incessant poking and prodding, tugging on sleeves. he longs for anything to remind him that he’s corporeal and alive.

eddie kaspbrak fears the bacteria that will crawl over his skin from a simple handshake. his mother ingrains it in him; hugs, kisses on the cheek. those are reserved for her, and everyone else around them is dirty. he doesn’t want to be dirty. but he sees kids wrestle on the playground, sees couples interlace fingers in town. he looks at his own perfectly clean palms and wonders how it must feel to live fearlessly.

mike hanlon has parents who love him, who hug him. but he has no friends to touch, to show him the kind of playful affection he so craves. he rides his bike into town and sees it. groups of kids who play tag, link arms, share sodas. he is alone on his farm with animals, books, and simple conversation. he longs to laugh, swim, dance, run, hug. he just wants to feel free.

richie tozier craves the kind of attention he never seems to get. his parents are alright, but they’re not exactly the loving type. he can’t remember the last time they hugged him, kissed his forehead goodnight. maybe if he acts out enough, his dad will hit him upside the head. at least it’ll be some kind of contact. he craves the feeling of another person at his side. to laugh with, to rile up. to lean against when the world is too much. to pick up when they’re down. maybe then he’d feel useful.

stanley uris thinks he’s okay without affection. well, his parents give him a lot, and he’s not too wild about that. so it must be the same for everyone. but he sees the kids who throw their arms ‘round one another on the playground and he feels a tug on his heartstrings. an ache that asks, ‘how does it feel to have friends?’ he wants to know the answer.

some force of the universe brings these seven kids together, seven lonely losers with the same desire to be accepted. to be loved. to feel like the fit in, like they mattered. to feel useful. to feel wanted, and needed. to be held.

beverly cups ben’s chubby cheeks in her hands, knuckles bony and bruised, and presses her lips to his. bill runs his fingers through beverly’s hair, gentle and lovingly, and she shuts her eyes and lets her lips fall open in a sigh, a sign of trust. eddie takes mike’s hands in his, despite the dirt under his fingernails. mike marvels at how small eddie’s palm is against his own, how he can engulf eddie’s entire being within himself. yet eddie’s raw power is no match to his size; that boy has a fire in his belly that cannot be put out, and mike admits it’s kind of scary to see him riled up.

richie is the closest to mike in height yet nowhere near him in strength. it’s adorable to watch the freckled boy challenge mike to arm wrestling and other various competitions, only to lose and pout til mike’s fingers dance from his hip up his sides, dragging uncontrollable snorts of laughter from him. richie will always drag stan into the messes he creates, finding a way to involve him in the chaos. not that he would ever complain. the other six are his favorite people, whom he trusts and loves with all his heart. laughing with them, crying with them, driving, dancing, singing, running, sleeping, cuddling, kissing. everything is perfect with them.

touch is craved even by those who don’t know they need it. love is craved by those even who think they already possess it. the seven losers find these things within one another. they are thankful to whatever forces bring them together. they have everything they’ve wanted, no, needed.

love does not make a person whole. everyone begins whole. but sometimes, people are just meant to be together, by each other’s sides. you become more than whole when you’re with them. soulmates are simply pieces of a puzzle. they can exist fine on their own, but they are the most beautiful when put together.

the losers are soulmates, and the universe knows this. beds that should certainly be too small for two people somehow fit them, folded side-by-side. couches sink beneath the weight of them all, plus their bowls of popcorn. car rides are crowded, but none of them can care with the music blaring. their cigarettes seem to go faster, the food runs out quicker. but they don’t care. the sharing is worth it. the togetherness is worth it.

the love does not run out. even with seven, there’s still always enough to go around.


End file.
